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letra de tote a heavy bar - darc mind

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[intro]
yo you wouldn’t have a chance in a million chump (wild style)

yeah
dust it off
check it out
ayo

[verse 1]
jaws of death of the last
gasp for breath
it’s agony
feared the sick catastrophic premier
as i wreck any hater
stated ways few keep f-ck up with
cold rip a shred in that ass with this rough gift
soon as i couldn’t come any quicker
the prune kickin’ sicker for whom the bell i toll sport stickers
the ruin, the meek, the wretched, the newly come to get a bit
the garbage, the booty-l!ck, muh-f-ckin’ illiterate
style run rings around the sh-t that you bring to town that you flaunted and boasted
your sh-t barely stings me clown
you see you’re low rate pushing product inferior
my lyrics prorate as i control your area
lethally and aromatic bitter with a taste to numb
you’re zip, miniscule, nothing but a waste of cum
lovely your ho all that ’cause her ass can switch
i hit the booth, cue mic, and cold wax that b-tch
[chorus x2]
tote a heavy bar, spit right, stay humble
pressure 3-point, run low don’t fumble
squeeze on the exhale, comin’ in hot
line it up, line it up, follow that shot

[verse 2]
hydromatic, charismatic this addict
black emphatic, i eradicate the wadack
stickin’ from coast to coast
with this prose i boast, i’m ghost
they follow me close
yeah i’m too gross for most
i-i just wait and let ’em reveal they hypertone
and metaphorically confiscate every microphone
i round ’em up, pushing ’em, hustlin’ harshly
i plug a spark leaf through a glass darkly
with a laugh, within’ sound my retrospective days that let up to them rounds for sounds with respect
many hours to credit, many moments of gore
many the mics that i manipulate so what’s one more?
sucker the subject worse case scenario
recurring anxiety, earthquakes in stereo
abusing mirage, such a four-letter word
as if to k!ll ’em thrill and ill ’em leavin’ flesh for bird
so p-ssy give me a mic as you puff it like a rope and pull it
it’s like you the pump and i’m the neighborhood bullet
clutching your lapels, i intimidate bass
strokin’ my mic barrel up against your face
overflowin’ i’m gushing, i’m pushing my product like textiles
hurling rhymes like projectiles
dilapidating hating i’m waiting too cool decapitate ’em
aggravating making that hater quickly evacuate
[chorus x2]

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